Frustration Blossoms
by justtofeel
Summary: Kyoya lays in bed, all he wants is sleep. So whats stopping him? And why does he find this particular distraction so horribly disgust-worthy? Short one sided KyoTama, Rated M for a reason.


Here he was again, lying in bed, trying in earnest to just _sleep_. Why couldn't he? Why must his thoughts be plagued with him? What advantage did it hold? What could he gain from this? Nothing. It was simply frivolous emotion, just lust. Sexual urges, every teenage boy endured them, but why… this? Why couldn't Kyoya think of someone else, hell, at this point anyone else? Why was it only ever _him_? There was no answer, just silence, no amount of logic or thinking or reasoning was going to answer his questions. So he bitterly pushed them away, asking himself questions that had no answer was a poor use of time, especially the time he'd rather use for much needed sleep.

However, even once the questions were gone his steadily worsening 'problem' stayed. The Ootori squirmed in frustration, he wanted to hit something. Yes he could just go take a cold shower but he would just lose more and more sleep. Unwanted thoughts had been stirring the ravenette uncomfortably for quite some time; at first he'd been able to ignore them. Recently though, they'd become more and more unsettling and Kyoya knew if he held out on this for too much longer the dreams would start up again. He shivered as the memory ghosted through him; he hadn't been able to act completely normal around Tamaki for a week after that.

His resolve finally buckled under the weight of his desire, he argued that it was logical. If he took any other course of action the potential results could be far more undesirable than this situation. He couldn't keep pretending the issue didn't exist, and he most definitely didn't have the energy to keep fighting his body. One battle he always seemed to lose. He took his glasses off, laying them and his long-forgotten book on his bedside table, 'Just don't think about him, get this over with then you can sleep.' He scowled slightly, when had he started dreading jacking off? That blond idiot had managed to pry his way into everything. He shoved his boxers down to mid-thigh, pumping lotion into his hand and taking a deep breath. He let it out in a hiss when cool lotion met his burning skin, slicking the hard shaft thoroughly.

Soon his strokes were steady; he could feel his elevated pulse against his palm as pleasure began to ebb through his nerves. His half lidded eyes slid shut as he squeezed gently, running his thumb over the head. The teen sighed and his mind let go, blond hair, violet eyes, that voice… Kyoya groaned in frustration, snapping his eyes back open. To his dismay the pleasure that had begun to build faltered and seeped slowly away. He let out an exasperated sigh.

Kyoya's mind was willing him to let it wander, the more he tried to stop it the more frustrated he became. His pumping was getting him nowhere, his body refused to respond to his near desperate actions. Finally Kyoya surrendered himself to his thoughts; he needed this more than he cared to admit. Growling once more in annoyance, he surrendered. As suddenly as he had stifled them, his fantasies rebounded. Blond hair, damp, tousled, spread beautifully on his pillow. Flushed skin, glazed with sweat, darkened violet eyes looking up at him pleadingly. "Mmm…" The usually silent Ootori heard himself humming as jolts of beautiful ecstasy washed over him. His lover's voice floated through his mind. He could only just fabricate that silk smooth voice that had charmed so many, wavering with need. Calling his name over and over…

The sound of skin hitting skin joined his imaginings and Kyoya groaned, his hips starting to rise ever so slightly to meet his hand. What would that pretty mouth look like wrapped around his cock? "Gah!" Kyoya muffled the cry with his free hand as he grew closer, losing even more control on his already lewd thoughts. What would those attractive features look like shrouded with the pleasure of climax? What would it feel like to have that lithe body clenched around him?

Kyoya saw stars as he gasped for breath, his hand over his mouth not doing much to muffle his moans. "Ah! Nnn… Ha! Tama-Tamaki…" Kyoya writhed under his own touch as moan after choked moan escaped the raven haired male, his climax bringing that name to his lips, forcing him to swallow it back between blissful gasps. He couldn't stop his mind from saying it, but he was too stubborn to let it pass his lips again. Kyoya was drowning in the pleasure he'd been submerged in by his thoughts, and he milked himself dry. Strands of pearly cum had fallen on his stomach and chest, and finally the pleasure receded. His body relaxed into the bed and his mind reeled for a moment, trying to recover from one of the more potent orgasms he'd had in a while.

There was no afterglow as he recovered and cleaned himself up; instead a feeling of guilt and disgust blossomed in his throat. It crawled up and left a heavy, bitter taste in his mouth. Just how many times would he let himself cum with his best friend's name on his lips? His body was exhausted, lust finally satisfied, and his mood took a dive. The most frustrating part was that the feelings were absolutely not mutual…

No.

He stopped his mind dead in its tracks, as if he could go back and erase the thought. There were no _feelings._Just attraction, only lust. Tamaki was one of the most attractive individuals enrolled in Ouran, his interest in the Frenchman was completely understandable. He wouldn't allow his body to go through some post-orgasmic emotional fit.

So why did Kyoya feel positively filthy? Like somehow he was defiling the Host King simply by having the urges he did?

Frustration welled in chest, meeting the bitterness in his throat as he pulled his boxers up. It didn't matter, he was exhausted, he just wanted to forget. And he would.

But for how long? Once he fell into sleep, would sickly sweet dreams of his best friend torment him into the morning? Or would he be at peace until he saw Tamaki in class, until that face brought back memories of what he'd done only moments ago? Would he be able to harness his control and keep his dignity or would he have to excuse himself in search of an empty restroom just to repeat the process?

The Ootori flung himself onto his side, right back where he'd started. Asking himself pointless questions, wasting the little time he had to sleep. His new found mantra rang through his tired mind, "_It doesn't matter._" But just before he drifted off, moments before he was safe from it all… Something spoke back from somewhere in him. Something small, barely audible in his exhausted stupor. Something that would never be heard through the bustle of his normally busy mind.

_"Yes. It__does."_


End file.
